Captain Proton to the Rescue
by Allyson
Summary: It's Captain Proton To The Rescue!


"You will never stop me, Captain Proton!"  
  
The words still rang in his ears even now, hours later, mocking him as he kept on running.  
  
All around, the forest was lush, green and dense. Somewhere in the distance crickets chirped and birds warbled lone songs while condensation dripped faintly from the leaves and flowers higher up in the thick-trunked trees and sweeping thicket. Above the tree line, the cloudless blue sky added the finishing touches to a seemingly perfect paradise.  
  
The peaceful tranquillity of the forest came to an abrupt end as an insistent thrashing echoed throughout the area causing any further natural sounds to cease into an uncanny stillness. The stillness was broken as the unmistakable form of the Galactic Hero, Captain Proton, emerged from the undergrowth at top speed. Seconds later, two crudely hand made arrows zipped through the air, narrowly missing Captain Proton's head and embedding themselves into a nearby tree. He had barely enough time to register the sight of a sliver of poisoned venom trickle from the tip of one of the arrows and sizzling down the tree bark before two more arrows followed in quick succession. With more poisoned arrows striking at his heels, Proton was reminded that danger still loomed behind him with increasing speed and a smaller chance of survival. He quickly took off again deeper into the forest.  
  
Wild vines and sharp thorns slapped at Captain Proton's face and hands, drawing blood and ripping at his clothes, as he shouldered his way through the unending greenery. Using his ray gun to burn away the thick vegetation in his path, Proton skidded to a halt and ducked for cover behind a low hanging plant with shimmering purple petals and large oval red leaves.  
  
Pounding blood circulating through his veins hissed loudly in his ears as he crouched in tense anticipation. His acutened senses were working overtime as he strained to hear any sound or see any movement that suggested he was still being pursued. After a good twenty minutes of waiting like this, Captain Proton decided he was for the moment relatively safe and risked standing up and leaving his hiding spot. When no further arrows were launched in his direction, Captain Proton started off at a brisk pace to where he could see a clearing in the trees.  
  
All of a sudden, the ground gave way beneath his feet and he tumbled down a hole into darkness. His fingers groped the tunnel's rough surface as he fell but to no avail. The soil crumbled away under his nails and the roots were slick with damp moisture, making it impossible for him to grab hold onto for long.  
  
His decent two feet down from the surface ended abruptly as he landed heavily in a small underground burrow, knocking the breath out of him. The rich musty smell of moist compost and packed tight soil assaulted his nostrils when he took a deep breath. His eyes, slowly adapting to the pitch-blackness, searched his new underground prison. A dim thread of light, barely enough to pierce the murky ink surrounding Proton that he had failed to see it immediately, came from what appeared to be a small tunnel off to his right. It was just big enough for Proton to squeeze through on his hands and knees. With no other option available to him, Proton slithered through the tunnel and followed the source of the dim light to a large cavern. Rectangular in shape with a higher ceiling so as to allow a full grown person to stand up relatively comfortably, the new cavern was lit by a hundred dozen candles in various states of melting wax and embers.  
  
The smell of rotten decay hit Proton first and then the dying smell of roses and peaches, forcing him to gag against a sudden urge to wretch. Frozen still in the mouth of the tunnel he had travelled through, Proton could only stare in shocked mortification as it occurred to him what he had unwittingly stumbled into. A crypt. And by the aroma in the air it was still in use by someone.  
  
Ripping a strip of material from his tunic so as to use for a makeshift gag, Captain Proton unholstered his ray gun as he climbed out of the tunnel and entered the crypt. A feeling of distinct unease swept through him, not liking the idea of trespassing through somebody's grave. He picked his way cautiously between the dank tombs and partly unearthed grinning corpses.  
  
The flickering shadows cast by the surrounding candles snaked across and around Proton as he moved further into their depths. Looking down, Proton felt a shudder of disgust pass through him. Side-stepping out of the pool of still drying blood, Proton became aware of a sharp hissing sound and the slow rhythmic clicking of a long-hidden device coming to life. He'd activated a booby trap.  
  
His fatal error was going to end his life as the galaxy's favourite hero.  
  
The hissing sound increased to a higher pitch that set Proton's teeth on edge and tortured his brain. Behind a low decaying tomb of cold stone, the clicking stopped and out popped a coarse round stone attached to a spring- like device that had been fashioned out of a coil of thin green vine. Though deceptively weak, Proton knew from previous experience at how strong and durable those vines really were. Seemingly alive, the vine retracted and released itself at a steady rate causing the stone attached to repeatedly grate against the tomb. The steady rate of stone scraping stone caused little blue sparks to crackle into the air before turning into black ash.  
  
Alerted by this ill-fated change in events, Proton began to move more quickly through the crypt away from the booby trap. If those two stones could cause sparks to ignite then it wouldn't be long before there was a fire. With no place to hide and shield himself, Proton found the urgency inside of him to leave this underground world increase.  
  
He broke into a run as he heard the telltale whoosh as fire engulfed the chamber behind him. The heat from the red ht flames warmed his back and licked at his heels. Spying a separate alcove tucked to the side ahead of him, Proton dived headfirst through the opening while simultaneously using his ray gun to blast dirt and rubble down from the ceiling to block up the opening. Though the alcove's temperature seemed to rise as the fire swept passed, none of the flames managed to penetrate through the collapsed entrance. Captain Proton was safe again.  
  
Turning slowly in a full circle, Proton took stock of his new surroundings. Dimly lit with no furnishings, the small claustrophobic room was bare with no other visible exit. It looked like Proton had sealed up the only way out and had trapped himself inside.  
  
Proton noticed all of this in a glance but what grabbed his attention were the walls themselves. A thin type of whitewash had been crudely smeared on all four surfaces and every inch of it had been covered with carefully hand written captions and drawings. Every item must have been painstakingly created as he when he went for a closer look he realised that the inscriptions and drawings had been scratched onto the hard surface with a sharp instrument. The native tribe that had completed the mosaic must have intended this to be an ongoing chronical record of their lives, so that in the event that something should happen to them their memories would not be lost to the world. The natives who had described their lives and warnings on these walls must have noticed how treacherous and dangerously unstable the underground caverns were to them. The ease of which Proton had triggered the fire booby trap was a testimony to that thought. To escape harm or to enter the burial chamber there must have been another entrance that had been hidden or disguised from grave robbers over the years.  
  
Squinting in the dim light, Proton began testing the walls inch by careful inch for any discrepancies in its texture that could suggest a hidden doorway or tunnel.  
  
Sliding his hand gently across a line of pictograms, he came to a representation of a simple flight of stairs leading upwards. As his fingers touched the drawing, a section of the wall beneath his touch moved deeper inwards. Hope beating within, Proton pushed with all his might. With a loud crack of ages old hinges suddenly brought back into life, the indented wall moved away just enough to reveal a hidden darkened passageway. The perfect mirror image of the stairs was carved into the rock and soil that led upwards to the surface.  
  
In his mind eye, Proton could almost see freedom. He recklessly bolted up the crumbling stairs two at a time, relieved at putting as much distance between himself and the underground crypt.  
  
Harsh sunlight momentarily blinded Captain Proton as he emerged from the undergrowth and found himself in the forest clearing once again. Blinking, Proton moved onwards again through the greenery back to his mission once more. He came to a stop at the edge of an overhanging cliff to look down at the sight below him.  
  
Five feet down, a jutting stone precipice hung prominently over a deep gully. Down deep below, Proton could just make out a thin blue ribbon marking the place of a fast moving river. One wrong step and it would be a long painful fall with minimal chance for survival. However, the steepness of the cliff and the dangerous water below was barely a moot point to brave Captain Proton. His full attention was drawn to the precipice, frowning in concern at the action unfolding below.  
  
Amongst the strewn tan rocks was a crudely erected stone altar that took up a third of the tiny area. And tied to it, struggling against her bonds was Captain Proton's faithful and beautiful secretary, Constance Goodheart. She was alive and unharmed but obviously frightened at her plight. His relief was overwhelming. Somewhere in Proton's furious train if thought, part of him couldn't help but notice that her new attire was that of the local tribal girls wore, except that the simple animal skin dress she wore was noticeably shorter in length. He quickly adverted his gaze modestly. In doing so he caught sight of something more significant.  
  
The evil Doctor Chaotica had emerged seemingly from nowhere and was advancing towards Constance Goodheart. Captain Proton's sworn enemy exuded an air of power and wrath so twistedly evil that no man or woman would dare betray him. His every step was both measured and powerful; his very presence demanded instant attention. A slight breeze caused Chaotica's cloak to ripple as he stopped before the secretary. He turned his harsh cold stare onto Constance Goodheart. She at once ceased her futile struggles and coward in the man's presence. Proton could just make out her whimpering pleas not to harm her.  
  
The air seemed to thicken as the tense mood stretched until breaking point. Proton strained forward to hear Doctor Chaotica as he began to speak.  
  
"At last the end of my sworn enemy, Captain Proton, approaches! With you, Constance Goodheart, as the bait, Proton will fall into my trap easily. After all, how could he live with himself if his lovely secretary succumbed to my powers? No! He would rather face me than see you die painfully. Yes, I feel Captain Proton's end is nigh and I will reign supreme at last!"  
  
From where Proton stood, he felt his anger rising with every word that Chaotica spoke. Never, would he let anything happen to Constance Goodheart. Any harm that came to her was a personal insult to Proton himself. He couldn't allow Chaotica to intimidate the innocent secretary any longer.  
  
"Doctor Chaotica!" he called out, boldly. His voice echoed down the canyon, causing Chaotica to turn around startled. When he looked up and spotted Proton on the ledge above, his surprise melted away into seething anger.  
  
"Proton," he rumbled.  
  
"Let Constance Goodheart go," demanded Proton, bringing out his ray gun and aiming down out his enemy. "I'm the one you want."  
  
"I think not, Proton," Chaotica smiled evilly up at him.  
  
The calculated look in Chaotica's eyes instantly warned Proton that something was wrong. What had he missed?  
  
A whooshing sound and then a sharp twang from behind him startled Proton. He looked down out the arrow embedded into the ground dangerously near to his right foot. Alerted, Proton looked behind him into the forest and could just make out the tips of tribal headpieces and the low guttural humming of tribal warriors moving through the foliage. More poisoned arrows sped towards the Galactic Hero, their accuracy increasing with distance. Firing off a few pot shots with his ray gun, Proton backed up as much as he dared. His footing slipped on a rocky outcrop and he felt his momentum overtake him before he could regain his balance.  
  
Captain Proton fell over the side of the cliff and tumbled downwards. In an effort to lesson any damage to himself and give him a better chance of survival, Proton curled himself into a ball as he fell, his head protected by his arms. After what felt like an eternity, Proton rolled to a crippling stop. He was bruised, battered and winded but he was still alive.  
  
Groaning at the ache in his ribcage, Proton rolled over and spat out a mouthful of dirt and leaves.  
  
"So good of you to join us, Captain Proton."  
  
Proton looked up, groggily, into the evil stare of Doctor Chaotica. He realised he'd landed on the precipice near the altar. Chaotica stood over him, glaring down at the bruised hero with a self-congratulatory smile on his lips. In one fluid movement, Chaotica swept up Proton's ray gun that he had lost during the fall and aimed the weapon square at Proton's head. Proton knew at that moment that the situation had taken a turn for worse.  
  
Constance Goodheart let out another terrified scream.  
  
"Ha ha! I have you right where I want you, Proton," gloated Chaotica, pressing the nozzle of the ray gun deeper into his enemy's face. "There is no escape for you this time. My tribal warriors are everywhere, ready to kill you on sight. Without your secretary, your sidekick, your ship and your weapon, you are at my mercy."  
  
Perspiration broke out on the hero's brow as he saw Chaotica squeeze the trigger. He closed his eyes shut and waited for the pain that would surely come next.  
  
"Computer. Freeze programme."  
  
Doctor Chaotica froze just as he was about to kill Captain Proton; gun still pressed to his face. In the background, Constance Goodheart had froze in mid-scream and all jungle sounds had ceased.  
  
"Nice hero strategy, Tom," Ensign Harry Kim said, smiling down at his friend. "I didn't realise lying on your back with a ray gun in your face was a way to defeat Doctor Chaotica."  
  
Lieutenant Tom Paris opened his eyes and saw Harry Kim looking down over Chaotica's shoulder at him, arms crossed.  
  
"Hey, Harry," he greeted, with a sheepish grin.  
  
Moving out of the way of the frozen ray gun, Paris got to his feet, absentmindedly brushing the sleeves of his alter ego's uniform. "I had a plan."  
  
"Of course you did," replied Kim.  
  
Paris looked at him to see if his friend's expression but Harry only stared back at him, innocently.  
  
"Right," agreed Tom, unsure. "What can I do you for, Harry?"  
  
"Actually, I came to see if you needed ace reporter, Buster Kincaid, on your mission," Harry replied with a hopeful smile.  
  
Tom smiled back in response.  
  
"Don't I always?" Slapping Kim on the shoulder, the conn officer said, "I have a great new programme set up that I wanted the both of us to test out. It's called Captain Proton And The Attack Of The 30ft Princess. Don't look at me like that Harry, you'll love it. Wait till you see-"  
  
With that the Galactic Hero, Captain Proton, and his loyal sidekick, Buster Kincaid, strode off in search of new mysteries and exciting new adventures. 


End file.
